Through the Trees
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: Uther is intent upon cutting down the forest...but the forest has other ideas. Merlin/OFC, established ArMor. Rated T for adult situations and sexual content.
1. Somewhere in a Dream

This story is dedicated to my best friend and muse, Taylor Roberts. Without whom this story would have never been inspired or written. 3

A/N: 1) This story was almost hard for me to write because I'm such a huge Merlin/Freya shipper, but...well...she died. And Merlin needs some lovin' too lol 2) There's just as much Armor as there is Merlin/OFC, and it's written to follow the same format as the show, so it's not _just_ a fluffy love story, I swear! But no worries, there's plenty of fluff as well ;)

**Disclaimer:** I not own nor claim to own anything associated with the 'Merlin' franchise or 'She Says'. All rights reserved to the BBC and Howie Day.

**Chapter One: Somewhere in a Dream**

_And when she breaks down and makes a sound  
You'll never hear her the way that I do  
And when she says she wants someone to love  
I hope you know that she doesn't mean you  
'She Says' by Howie Day_

_Trees…with faces. Their moaning was ripping her insides apart, the pain that coursed through them as the axes cut and sawed, seemingly real inside her own limbs. Fires burned away their roots, destroying the bushes and the fertile earth. The smoke was thick, choking whatever animals had fled to the nearby glens and ridges. Everything was dying a slow, painful death and she could feel herself dying with it. _

_Running through the woods, through the fire and around the burning trees, something began to fight back. It had been here as long as the trees, as long as the earth itself and it wasn't going to see this sacred place waste away without a fight. The men fell, screaming in pain, the sickening crack of breaking bones loud in her ears. Blood streamed across the forest floor. Far beyond, at the gates of Camelot, women and children froze in terror as the sounds of death were carried to them on an angry wind. _

With a gasp, Morgana sat up, her heart pounding almost as hard as her aching head. Sweat had gathered on her brow, making her dark hair stick to the sides of her face. Throwing her heavy blankets aside, she struggled through the throbbing in her skull, the dull ache of fatigue in all her muscles, to find a robe. Quietly, she padded down the cold, stone halls of Uther's castle, hoping Arthur was still awake.

The dreams had been easing off a bit as of late, blurry and difficult to remember. This was different. Even as she made her way through the quite corridor, Morgana had trouble convincing herself that what she had seen was yet to be. With shaking hands, she looked down at her arms, half-expecting them to be sawed off or burnt. But her pale skin was as smooth and flawless as ever. She had nothing to fear. Forcing her lungs to breathe evenly, she knocked on Arthur's door, assuring herself that she would be in his arms soon and everything would be fine.

His voice bade her enter and as soon as she did, all sense of composure melted away. Tears welled up in her jade eyes, and as she curled up beside him, the sobs began.

"It felt so real." She breathed, his arms cradling her against his shoulder.

"It's alright," He assured her, voice calm and steady as he combed his fingers through her hair. "It was just a dream."

"No," Stubbornly, she pulled away from him. "I think it was a warning."

"Morgana…" Arthur sighed, rolling over onto his back. He was used to her nightmares. The presence of her in his bed at least once a week, the tears, the hysteria that usually passed within a matter of minutes. His heart ached to see her so weak and vulnerable (so different from the graceful creature that walked his father's halls during the day), and if he was honest a part of him enjoyed it. The fact that when her world began to fray at the edges, it was him who she turned to. The fact that she needed no one else the way she needed him. But sometimes it was a little ridiculous.

"Don't do that." She pleaded with him, sitting up to look down into his unconvinced eyes. He didn't understand her intuition and tended to shut it out for that very reason. But she was right, she _knew_ she was right. Couldn't he just listen to her this once?

"We've been over this." He looked up at her helplessly, running a hand up and down her arm affectionately. "They're just dreams. Nothing is going to happen."

"I saw the forest." She plowed on despite his resistance, "The one Uther is planning to cut down. The one you're men are supposed to clear tomorrow. Please, Arthur, I don't think it's a good idea if"-

"I can't go against my father because you had a bad dream." His frustrated voice interrupted hers. He hated snapping at her, treating her as though she were just some ineffectual child. But what was he supposed to do? The King's orders had been firm: Clear the site for the axmen. Mark it off. Disperse the new farmland accordingly. He was powerless to get in the way of it.

"Just…" Taking a deep breath, she collapsed beside him, no longer able to ignore the aching inside her head enough to continue fighting him. "Just don't go in there unarmed."

She didn't see it when he cocked an eyebrow, the expression on his face seeming to beg the question of whether or not she had lost her mind.

"Morgana, no one's been in that forest for decades. The villagers have this ridiculous notion that its haunted. Our scouting the area is just a precaution, to keep stray children and travelers safe when they begin to burn the underbrush."

"I'm telling you, something was fighting back." She grumbled against his chest stubbornly, all the while settling in to the crook of his shoulder. Whether he was taking her seriously or not, arguing with Arthur usually made her feel better about most things. This was no exception and she could feel sleep coming to reclaim her swiftly.

Looking down at her as she snuggled along his side, her stance finally calming as she wrapped an arm across his bare chest, Arthur knew he was going to regret this. But if he didn't concede, at least a little bit, he'd never be able to concentrate on the task at his father had entrusted him with and that could put the entire plan in jeopardy.

"Would it make you feel better if I sent some men ahead of us tomorrow? Just to send warning in case anything _is_ in there? Even if we both know there isn't…"

Laughing softly against his skin, she nodded faintly, her eyes already closed.

"Yes, it would."

"Then consider it done." With a kiss to the top of her head, he pulled the covers up around the both of them and closed his own eyes. "I love you."

He felt her smile, her small fingers reaching down to curl between his.

"I love you too. Even if you are an insufferable prat."

* * *

"Explain to me again why I'm going on ahead of you, despite the fact that I know nothing about picking up or following trails of any kind." Merlin asked, giving his master a rather wary look the next morning. From her window, he caught Morgana peering down into the courtyard, waving halfheartedly. She looked tired, her eyes heavy and her smile forced. As Arthur threw an assuring smile and a stiff wave back, the picture started to come together.

"Because," The King's son replied, tightening the sword belt around Merlin's waist with a rough jerk. "Morgana had another one of her dreams and is insisting that I send someone ahead in case we face a threat in the woods."

"And _I'm_ supposed to face that threat?" Suddenly he was feeling a little lightheaded. He couldn't use magic in front of Arthur's soldiers and any other means of defending himself seemed a bit daunting. As Arthur continuously assured his manservant, he was useless with a sword.

The Prince only rolled his eyes, shoving a water sack against Merlin's chest.

"There _is_ no threat. She's just being ridiculous, as usual."

"She's usually right about these sort of things…" Merlin mumbled absently, trying to figure out how the canteen was supposed to fit along his belt.

"Pfft." A sound of unconvinced amusement ruffled the air beside him. "Come off it, Merlin. No one's been in that forest since I can even remember. You'll be fine. Just hurry back, I want to get this over with as soon as possible."

Merlin's gaze drifted back to Morgana's window for a moment and he snickered as the Prince steadied the horse his manservant would be borrowing. It took a few tries, but once he was securely in the saddle, Merlin looked down at Arthur, a mischievous smile twitching at the sides of his mouth.

"No doubt you have much more pressing matters to get back to."

Arthur's eyes narrowed threateningly as he tightened the stirrups.

"_Yes_. _I do_. Heading up the guard? Protecting the city? Carrying out my father's orders?"

"Keeping the King's ward on your good side…" For that, he got a curt smack to his horse's backside, sending it galloping wildly out of the courtyard. Though not completely useless in the saddle, Merlin had never been properly trained in horseback riding and had a very difficult time staying balanced atop this one as it careened through the market. From his place at the palace steps, Arthur just laughed, a silent prayer of good luck for his most faithful servant whispered in his mind.

About ten miles from the city gates, just beyond the fields of Camelot's most out-skirting farmers, sat the Atrum forest. From its very beginning, the trees grew too close together for horse-treading and so the three or four men Arthur had sent alongside his manservant tied their horses up to the strongest trunks they could find and went on their way. There seemed no decipherable path, so the men decided to separate and fan out, covering what area they could. Occasionally Merlin caught a glimpse of the others at the edges of his vision, but for the most part he found himself walking this strange place alone.

Part of him was glad of this, for the clink and clamor or chain mail had no place in this wood. Surely, he thought, his eyes soaking in as much of his surroundings as he could, no forest could hold a candle to this one. It's trees were strong and proud, blossoming with the brightest, green leaves, wrapped in elegant strands of ivy and separated by tufts of soft, healthy grass. Thick moss covered the rocks and boulders that only grew more formidable as Merlin ventured deeper and the ground began to gradually slope upwards.

He was sure he had to be imagining it but there seemed to be an energy filling the air, streaming in the sunshine that fell in spots across the forest floor. Was the air pulsing? More than once or twice he could have sworn he heard whispers through the branches, almost as though the leaves themselves were spreading messages through the canopy. Unable to shake the feeling of being watched, Merlin now understood why the villagers stayed away from this place.

'_No wonder they think it's haunted. I'm beginning to think so myself.' _

Suddenly, far to his left, he heard a cry of attack from one of the soldiers. The pulse of life among the trees grew so strong that it seemed to consume him, the air around him growing almost too dense to breathe in. Out of the endless depths of branches, arrows began to rain down, narrowly missing him as he ran forward through the trees, gasping for breath. All around him, the continuous heartbeat of the forest grew only stronger and Merlin was sure his eardrums were going to burst. And then-

"Oh." His hands flew up at his sides, his feet coming to a stop and jolt running through his heart. An inch from his face sat an arrow, the string of its bow pulled taught. Behind it, stood a tall woman barely distinguishable from the trees for all the foliage strung through her hair and clothing. Her eyes, green as the leaves around them, bore into his own angrily.

"Why are you here?"

Merlin's tongue seemed frozen in his mouth. She hadn't killed him yet. Why hadn't she killed him? What was she waiting for? At the edges of his consciousness, he could feel something (almost like the static shock that nipped his fingers after folding Arthur's socks or making his bed) brushing against his mind. He'd never felt anything like it in his life but instinctively he recognized the energy as magic.

Just as this realization dawned on him, he caught glimpses of silver running along the far edges of the wood. Arthur's men were coming, surely they were going to close in on this woman at any moment.

"You need to go or they'll kill you." He ordered the woman, who's steady arm twitched in confusion against her bow. "I'll lead them away from here but you have to go!"

Her bow lowered, she stood staring at him for a moment, unsure of whether to trust him. Taking a deep breath, Merlin began to run back in the direction they had come and to the right-opposite of where the woman stood.

"They're over here! Come on!" Turning to glance over his shoulder, Merlin gave the woman a nod and then continued on his way. He ran and ran until the men, who looked to be suffering significant woods were in sight. Slowing his pace, he allowed their strides to eclipse his until finally falling behind enough to hide under the precipice of a small gorge. They had all been running so far apart he was sure they wouldn't notice his absence until having reached the horses anyway. By that time they would never turn back just to save a simple servant.

It was a good twenty minutes or so before he felt it safe enough to move. Without even a thought of acting otherwise, he ventured back towards the place where he had come face to face with the mysterious woman of the wood. She had been unlike anyone he had ever seen before. Tall and proud, she had stood as the trees around her, hair the golden-amber color of sap shading her face in the dim forest light. The smudges of dirt on her skin had seemed normal and he could imagine her no other way. Leaves and ivy had been strung through her hair, curled around one of her arms, sewn through the deer skin of her sleeveless dress. She may have scared him witless, but she had also been stunningly beautiful.

It seemed he walked the forest for nearly an hour before the familiar pulsing began to intensify once more. Down through a sloping glen, at the edges of a far off clearing, he could make out smoke through the trees. As he got closer, he saw the light of the fires and closer still (though the underbrush was growing increasingly thicker, almost as if the forest itself were protecting this place) he began to make out little huts of waddle and reed. Crouching behind the large bushes that blocked the tiny village from view, he peered down and saw people walking between the huts, around the fires, through the surrounding trees. All of them dressed as savagely as the woman he had met before, but seemingly very organized and peaceable.

He wondered if he should venture down to tell them of the King's plans. How could he not? Surely, if he failed to warn them they would be leveled in Uther's efforts to expand the farmlands. In very little time at all, Merlin had made up his mind and began taking a few cautious steps through the bushes, when suddenly-

"Ahh!" How he ended up on his back he wasn't at all sure. All he knew was that it hurt and there was another arrow in his face.

"Why did you betray your men?" Looking up, his hazel-blue eyes were arrested by a familiar sight. The same woman who had stopped him before. And she didn't look much happier than last time. Still on the ground, he grasped around for a reply that wouldn't cost him his life.

"How can you be sure I am one of them at all?" His eyebrow quirked, hoping to convince her that he was of no threat. She only rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Do you think us so careless as to leave our borders without patrol? I have been watching you and your fellow soldiers since you entered our realm."

"I am no soldier." He promised ardently, still on the ground. "Honest. I was only sent to scout the wood for signs of life."

"Well it looks as though you found some." She growled, eyes narrowed. "Not that I can say I have ever seen a forest _absent_ of life."

"I only meant"-

"Human life? Yes, because to your kind that is the only sort of life deemed valuable." Though her words were icy and resentful, her fingers were fastening the bow and arrow to the quiver along her back as she spoke them. "You have yet to answer my question."

"I…" She was going to think he was crazy. But the truth was the only excuse he had. "I felt something in the wood. This entire place…it's magic, isn't it? And so are you." His voice was slow, careful as he cautiously stood, heart still pounding from the rush of his life having been in peril for the second time that day. But his words were as good as an accusation of treason and she took them as a viable threat. When her fingers strayed to the sword at her hip, he flung up his hand. "No, it's alright. I promise. Watch."

Facing his palm toward the ground, he focused all of his energy on the leaves that lay fallen in the grass.

"Cenhadau, arwyrain a chwildro*." As he spoke, his eyes flashed amber and the leaves began to rise around the two of them. Swirling like a small, gentle dervish, they came to rest in the palm of his hand after a few moments, continuing to float in the shape of a ball, floating just an inch above his outstretched palm. Looking up, he met the woman's rather impressed gaze with a nod of assurance. "See. I'm magic too."

She nodded absently, watching the globe of energy that continued to float in his hand for a few seconds more before Merlin let the leaves fall back to the earth, as lifeless as they had been before.

"So, why did you come back? How can I trust this isn't some trick to lead your men to my people." It was clear she wanted to trust him, or at least, that was the way it felt when the edges of her magic began to brush against his own again. The sides of his mouth twitched at the funny sensation and he shrugged.

"You know my secret. If the King's men do find you, you have only to tell them of my abilities and I promise they will kill me. But that is the least of your concerns now. The King is trying to destroy this place, we have to get your people out of here before they start the fires."

"Absolutely not." She shook her head stubbornly, "We have called this place home for as long as the trees. Your King will die before he drives us away."

"I don't think you understand." Merlin pleaded. "They won't stop until they have flattened this place. And if they find out about your people…The King hates magic more than anything. He won't hesitate to kill you. _All _of you."

She stood silently, wrestling with herself over the decision. Bringing his kind into the village would go against everything she had ever been taught. He was a human, destroyer of the earth and never to be trusted. But if she let him go, he might bring the King's men back here anyway. Shaking her head, the woman sighed, leading him around the bushes.

"Follow me."

* * *

o.0 Uh oh, Merlin's about to get himself in troooouble lol If you read and enjoyed it (or even if you didn't) please try and leave a comment or two about what you liked or didn't like. Thanks so much! As long as there's an interest, look for an update within the week ;)

*Welsh for 'Leaves, rise and spin.'


	2. Right and Wrong

Disclaimer: I do not own no claim to own anything associated with the Pocahontas franchise. All rights reserved to Disney and Lake Buena Vista distributers. However, Pocahontas was my Disney princess growing up so...I guess the spirit of it and the values that it nurtured within me...yeah those are mine lol

**Chapter Two: Right and Wrong**

_You think the only people who are people  
__Are the people who look and think like you  
__But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,  
__You'll learn things you never knew, you never knew  
_'Colors of the Wind'- Pocahontas OST

"And you're sure of this?" Uther's commanding voice filled the entire court room, his face dark with concern.

"Yes, sire." The bandaged knight before him nodded fervently, "At least twenty of them. Violent and hostile."

"We…we think they were druids." His companion added, though a bit nervously. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he had seen. But he knew whatever was in the forest had to be stopped and it would be best for Camelot as a whole if the King squashed this threat immediately. The best way to ensure that was to make him believe magic was involved. Besides, only heathen druids lived in the woods anyway.

"Good." The King nodded in satisfaction. He could justify extinguishing this force if it was known to be magical. "We will begin drawing up plans for an attack immediately. Knights of Camelot, I thank you for your loyalty. Your bravery will not go uncompensated."

"Thank you, sire." Bowing deeply the pair left, their wounds all but forgotten at the thought of the rewards to come.

"Arthur, I expect you to head up the expedition. With any luck, we'll be able to wipe this threat off our lands before the end of the week."

Nodding grimly, the King's son forced himself to unclench his jaw long enough to mutter a response of agreement before leaving. He worked tirelessly throughout the rest of the day, planning and strategizing, delegating duties to those of lower rank so his men would be ready to ride in two day's time. All the while his thoughts were plagued with visions of innocent women and children, running from the sight of him, begging for their lives at the point of his sword.

How could he be expected to do such things? These people had committed no offense against anyone. They lived peacefully, deep in the forests farthest from his father's city. What threat could they possibly be to his reign? If they had wanted to strike the Pendragon crest down, would they not have done so by now?

At dinner, he finalized his plans with the King and Uther clapped him proudly on the back.

"This is impressive work, my son. You have the true spirit of a leader." He beamed. And even as Arthur's heart soared to hear those words, his stomach twisted with sickening guilt. What kind of man took pride in his son's ability to slaughter other human beings? There had to be something wrong with that.

* * *

As she led him into the village, every eye turned to stare. Was he really so noticeably different from them? Perhaps he should have rolled around in the dirt and leaves before venturing down here. Though, the more he watched them, the less he felt any kind of disguise might have helped. Snippets of their hidden whispers reached his ears- _'stranger'_, _'not welcome'_, _'filthy human'_- and Merlin began to realize the problem was much more innate than his clothing or clean skin.

"Why do your people hate humans so much?" He asked, fear wrinkling his features as they ducked into her small hut. Laying her quiver and bow near the entry, she began to search a small chest filled with clothing.

"_Why_?" Her laugh was light, airy, as though certain he must have been joking. "Perhaps it is because you carry no respect for the land that bore you. The same land that sustains you and keeps you. Or maybe it is your blatant disregard for life? Your irrepressible desire to spill blood."

"We're not all like that." He mumbled, feeling rather small in the face of her arguments as his eyes searched her home. Everything seemed to fit so seamlessly with the forest around it, seemed to give back as much as it took. Picking out a dress of pale green (though Merlin had been sure at first that it was only a petticoat for it had no sleeves and was very light), the woman slipped behind a screen and began to change.

"Your leaders are." She countered gravely, "You said it before. Even your own King plans to burn our forest. And for what? To expand his crop lands? To yield greater profits for his own pocket? You humans are so selfish, you don't even _see_ the repercussions of your behavior."

"He's not an evil man." Merlin fought back, though in his mouth the words tasted a lie. He didn't want Uther at the helm of Camelot any more than she did. But still, he _was_ the King and to go against him would be treason. "Everything he does is for the betterment of his people. He must think of them first, he has no choice."

"And why must there be a first or second or last?" She spat back venomously. "Why is it that you mortals seem incapable of working with the land and the trees and the animals? Can you not learn from them? Must there always be suffering exchanged for prosperity?"

As the last few words fell from her mouth, she stepped out from behind the screen, the form fitting dress and crown of olive branches adorning her head giving her a much less formidable appearance than before. An awkward sort of shrug ruffled Merlin's shoulders as he fought the smile that threatened to overtake his face.

"You know, you haven't even told me your name." He realized it only moments before the words came out, his eyes still drinking in the sight of her. Pretty girls were common in the halls of Uther's palace, but this woman was mesmerizing in a completely different way. Her beauty was like dawn over the White Mountains, the clear night skies of winter, the last bits of light stretching through the trees at dusk. It touched him like the countryside in summer or the warmth of a fire after a long, cold day. He couldn't think of proper words to do it justice, but he knew he liked it.

"Aven." She conceded after a moment or two, a bit unsettled by his staring. "And yours?"

"Merlin." He muttered back, trying to keep his eyes on her own.

"Well Merlin, I hope I have not spared your life in vain because you are about to meet the High Priestess of the last remaining Dryad tribe in Britain."

The fog of captivation seemed to lift from his eyes as her words sunk in.

"A-and who would that be?" He nearly squeaked, following her out of the hut. Over her shoulder, Aven offered only a tiny smirk.

"My mother."

'_Wonderful.' _The young sorcerer grumbled inwardly, cursing the day he'd first saved Arthur's life. If he ever made it back alive, Merlin was sure he was going to kill him.

* * *

Back in his chambers, the Crown Prince could no longer bring himself to look over his plans of attack. His head was swimming with troop numbers and strategies, expected losses and terrain warnings. The jumbled mass behind his eyes no longer made any sense, but instead sat like a heap of garbage, useless and decaying. Sitting slumped over in his chair, Arthur stared into the flames of his hearth, wishing he had never sent Merlin into the woods at all.

He wouldn't admit it to any of the generals or knights, but it was the loss of his faithful servant that was doing the most damage. How could he have allowed Merlin to come to harm? How could he have been so careless and stupid as to send the boy into the dark, dangerous depths of the forest? At this rate, Camelot could only hope he would _never_ become King.

Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to shift and he had the acute sensation of being watched. Turning, he noticed Morgana, leaning casually against the heavy wooden doors of his chamber. He wanted to ask how she'd managed to open and close the doors without making any noise whatsoever, but his heart was too relieved by the sight of her. The fact that her night robe was open and he could tell that she was wearing that little black negligee he loved didn't help much either. Scandalously short, spun from thin, sheer silk, Arthur had no idea how she had convinced anyone to make such a thing for the King's ward. But when his mouth began to go a little dry, his pulse quicken with desire, all he wanted to do was thank them.

Their eyes met and she smiled mischievously, shrugging off her robe as she closed the space between them. Arthur couldn't help but watch her hips as she moved, almost catlike, over to the chair. Before he even knew what was happening, she had curled up on his lap, straddling his thighs with a hand combed back through his thick, golden hair. The tense anxiety he had been enduring all day seemed to melt from his bones at her presence and he was sure he had never felt more content.

"Say it." She whispered, the tip of her finger lightly tracing his bottom lip. He only smirked, taking her hand from his mouth and folding it behind her back with firm, but gentle insistence that she could not bully him around in his own chambers.

"And if I don't?" He murmured back, curious as to how Morgana sitting half-naked in his lap could possibly work _against_ him. But it was his own mistake to think her incapable of keeping up with him.

"I want to hear you say it." She breathed against his neck, her teeth gently tugging at his earlobe before taking the cartilage with the tip of her tongue. Beneath her, Arthur's breath hitched, a shiver coursing down his spine as his fingers clenched helplessly around the material of her nightgown.

"I was wrong about the forest." He finally admitted, earning him a soft series of kisses along the jaw.

"And?" She mumbled, easing her wrist out of his grip (which he still had pinned behind her back) while he was distracted enough not to resist. By the time he realized that she had the upper hand, it was too late. But Arthur didn't really care. Wrapping his arms around her neck and waist, he picked her up, their mouths battling affectionately as he laid her down across the thick blankets of his mattress.

"And we both know you were right." He growled playfully in her ear before sitting up to throw his tunic off, "Now, for the love of heaven and earth, stop torturing me."

Giggling, she shoved him on to his back, straddling his hips again and pinning his wrists down on either side of his head.

"Don't you know by now?" Her smile was teasing as she shifted her weight across his lap. "Torturing you is the most fun I have all day."

But when their mouths met again, she knew she had already given in.

* * *

The bonfire burned at least twenty feet high, the flames taking on the shape of animals and trees, dancing to the flutes and drums of the tribe. Around the fire, the villagers danced as well, reenacting stories of creation and other tales held just as sacred. The entire tribe watched, surrounding the flames with quiet faces that flickered with light and shadow alike. Through the darkness, an ethereal voice drifted around them, narrating the dances, telling the stories. The voice, eerie and deep as it resonated in his ears, would have frightened Merlin had he been unaware that it came only from the High Priestess herself, Estaea.

From when his eyes had first taken sight of her, a peace had washed over him, filling him with contentment and an easy happiness. Aven's mother seemed all that was right with the world. Everything good and whole and trustworthy. He couldn't help but wonder what a different place Camelot would be with such a leader to guide its people.

The High Priestess had been much more receptive than her daughter, almost as though she had been expecting him. Though he brought grave news, she welcomed his warnings with deep gratitude and offered him refuge during his stay amongst the Dryads. Happily accepting, he had changed into the clothes provided for him (much lighter and finely crafted than his torn and dirty servant's rags) and eaten a large meal of the best bread he had ever tasted, juicy berries and rather delicious roots. Their water was unlike anything he had ever tried in his life and Merlin yearned to stay, if only to drink it again and again for the rest of his life. Finally having had his fill, he had taken his seat beside Aven around the bonfire and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Apparently that was the meaning to all their fantastical dances and story-telling. It was a cleansing ritual. An apology to the earth and other elements for the blood shed that day when fending off Uther's soldiers. But it seemed to Merlin, that it was so much more than that. The music and the words and the fire brought the entire village together, solidifying their emotional ties and unifying them that much more. There was such brotherhood here, a deep sense of community and trust. Nothing like the dirty, frigid streets of Camelot, where every man was left to fend for himself. There was something about all of it that struck him as direly beautiful and he wondered why anyone would allow it to be destroyed.

It was then, as he sat by the fire, his eyes shining not just with light but admiration for these people, that the young sorcerer made up his mind. If no one else would fight for the Dryads, then he would. No matter what it took, no matter what the cost, he would ensure their survival. For if not him…then who else?

* * *

After washing away the sweat of their lovemaking and changing for bed, both Arthur and Morgana settled beneath his blankets, curling against one another in the dim light of the dying fire. A few moments of silence passed between them as the weight of the day began sinking down on Arthur once more, his thumb absently roving back and forth across the skin of her shoulder. Though they hadn't had much chance to speak that day, she knew he was troubled and it unsettled her to see him so.

"What were you thinking about when I walked in?" Her voice was soft and low, mingling through the air with the sounds of the embers crackling in their grate.

"Just…everything." He sighed, "Today. Tomorrow. All of the people."

"You have a good heart, Arthur." She murmured, kissing the skin of his chest softly. "You just have to trust it."

"Even when my heart speaks treason against my father and my King?" A dark chuckle escaped his lips. She had always been a bit of a dreamer. Though he admired her idealism, her insistence that peace and love could trump any of life's struggles if only given the chance, he was powerless to heed her words.

"Oh, damn the King." Morgana grumbled, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

"That's your answer to everything." Arthur laughed, deep and low in his chest as he stroked her hair. "You know as well as I do that it's not always so simple."

"It could be." She pouted stubbornly. Sometimes he was sure that he could tell her the sun would be rising in the morning and she would still shake her head in disagreement. It seemed her first instinct was to challenge every word that fell from his lips, no matter what those words were. "The Druids pose no threat to us. Is it really necessary to strike them down?"

"They attacked our men today. They _took_ Merlin." He reminded her coldly, trying to convince himself that his father knew better than the woman he loved. Even if her heart was in the right place, she could not be as wise or insightful as the King. He had to trust that. More so, he had to save his friend.

"I'm sure he's fine." Morgana assured him, reaching down to fold her fingers between his own. "You know Merlin, he's good at getting himself out of trouble."

"Not as good as getting himself into it in the first place." Arthur grumbled back, though he gave her hand an affectionate squeeze, letting her know he appreciated her presence and support all the same.

"I suppose you'll just have to try to play the hero and save him then." Morgana sighed wistfully, as though this was completely beyond the range of the King's son. "Poor Merlin."

Beside her, he rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. Leaning over her, he began to tickle her skin, fingertips running up and down the sides of her waist.

"You dare to insult the Crown Prince in his own chambers?"

"Ar…Arthur!" She wheezed, gasping for air between laughs, "Arthur stop! Pleeease!"

"No." He shrugged, unaffected (and seemimngly rather amused) by her pleas. Straddling her hips, he pinned her body down with his own so she had no possible way of escape. "I think it's about time you were punished for your insolence, my Lady."

"Arthuuur." She continued to plead, tears forming in her eyes from the irrepressible laughter. "Please!"

"Please what?" He leaned down, murmuring in her ear as his fingers finally ceased their torture. A strangled moan reverberated in her throat as he took her earlobe between his lips, sucking on the soft flesh and giving her chills as only he knew how.

"Mmm," She sighed, her arms snaking around his neck and back. "I change my mind. Don't stop."

* * *

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	3. Changing Points of View

Hope you guys like it :)

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own the song 'Strangers Like Me'. All rights reserved to Phil Collins and Lake Buena Vista Distribution.

**Chapter Three: Changing Points of View**

_I never knew of some other world far beyond this place  
Beyond the trees, above the clouds, I see before me a new horizon  
__Tell me more, please show me something's familiar about these strangers like me  
Come with me now to see my world where there's beauty beyond your dreams  
Can you feel the things I feel right now with you, there's a world I need to know  
-_'Strangers Like Me' by Phil Collins

Leagues from the palace and his chores, Merlin had very much been looking forward to sleeping in the morning after his arrival among the Dryads. However, this hope was quickly dashed away when someone began to shake him awake in the dark.

"Merlin!" A voice like the wind hissed, "Merlin wake up, I want to show you something."

"Wha…?" Sitting up, his eyes blinked open and he took a rather disoriented glance around his surroundings. Barely able to see a thing, he realized that even the sun wasn't up yet. Suddenly a cloak was thrown his way, landing atop his head.

"Get dressed." Aven murmured, making her way towards the door, "And hurry, the sun won't wait forever."

Confused and exhausted from yesterday, the young sorcerer did as he was told. With a last glance of longing towards the bed he had been afforded, Merlin made his way outside.

"Where in God's name are you dragging me off to so early?" He yawned, wrapping the cloak around his body tighter. He hadn't realized how well the Dryad huts secured warmth until stepping outside into the unforgiving, early morning air.

"You'll see." She assured him. Looking back over her shoulder as they started up the steepening ground that led deeper into the forest, Aven took his cold hand in hers. "Trust me."

As his fingers thawed in her warm grip, he realized, that (strangely) he already did.

* * *

There had been many a morning when Arthur had wished Merlin would wake him quietly, readying his chambers quickly and unheard like any good servant. But the silence that morning ate him up inside with guilt and loneliness. He found himself missing the usual quips about Morgana's scent in his chambers or his own haggard appearance after being kept awake half the night. Any moment he expected to hear the sound of his clumsy, but loyal, friend dropping, tripping over or banging his head against something, but none came. Nodding uncomfortably at the maid who came in Merlin's place, Arthur's resolve to find the bastards who had taken his most idiotic, foolhardy, bold and altogether impressive servant, only hardened.

Preparations continued for the rest of the day and the King's son enforced his orders so ardently that his men were ready by mid-afternoon, a full half-day earlier than planned. As his adopted sister (the only person besides Merlin who he trusted enough to even touch his armor) helped him do up the chain mail and arm plates, he could feel the unspoken words she was struggling to hold back in the tense air between them.

"This _is_ necessary, Morgana." He murmured, though the words were more to assure himself than his Lady.

"I didn't say it wasn't." She shrugged, the hair that covered her face as she bent to fix a piece of chain mail that had stuck together muffling her voice a little.

"You didn't have to." Arthur smirked, a soft chuckle laced through his words. "I know you well enough by now to tell when you're upset."

"I don't want to send you off badly, I just…" Sighing, she straightened her back, eyes fixing on his own helplessly. "When will all this madness end? Uther's hatred is going to consume the entire kingdom if someone doesn't stop him."

"Did you ever think maybe that someone ought not be his own ward?" Arthur chanced, pleading his case with a gentle smile. Her heart was in the right place, and to a certain degree she was voicing some of his own concerns. But his father knew what he was doing. Or at least, that was what Arthur had to tell himself before bed each night if he wanted any chance at getting to sleep.

"If not me, then who?" She shook her head, jade eyes creased and a pout to her mouth. Looking down at her in amusement, he couldn't help thinking that even when acting like an immature little child, she was unbearably beautiful.

"Listen, I don't want you to worry." He spoke softly, cupping her cheek in his gloved hand. "I will do everything I can to negotiate with these people. I will show them all the mercy that I am able. And then I will come home and kiss you and feast with the King and all will be right again."

Giving in to a smile, she nodded, returning his gentle kiss goodbye.

"Come back soon." Morgana murmured, her lips brushing his once they broke apart.

"I will." He promised, taking his helmet from the nearby table. "No more nightmares until I return, alright?"

"Oh, don't worry." She smirked, walking with him to the door of the armory, "I'm sure I'll get much more sleep with you out of the castle."

"Cheeky minx." Arthur chuckled, playfully hitting her backside with his helmet on the way out as he rolled his eyes at her antics.

* * *

Merlin had watched the sun rise before but not like this. Sitting at the edge of the wooded precipice where Aven had led them, he could see the entire highland range stretching on for miles, blanketed by the light mists of morning. When they had arrived the trees were pale blue, looking as cold as he felt. But then the sun had broken over the hillside, pouring golden light across the treetops, extending on and on until the fog had evaporated and everything was bright. The energy he had felt the evening before coursed through him in a rush of highs and lows. The subdued quiet before light hit every branch, the trees stirring all around him as they yearned for the sun's warmth, the breaking of a new day opening the world up to him like a flower just beginning to blossom.

Shrugging off his cloak in the warmth that followed, he was thankful when he turned to see his company unpacking breakfast. Distracted by the dazzling show she had brought him to watch, he had forgotten food until, at the end of it, his stomach had lurched painfully.

"That was incredible." He sighed in awe, taking the bread she offered him. "Thank you."

"Not many humans have ever seen a sunrise in our realm." She smiled back, almost secretively.

"I can't think of anything that compares." He shook his head, words a little muffled through the food in his mouth. Aven watched him with amusement for a moment before gracefully taking a bite of her own bread. When he finally swallowed everything, his keen eyes looked upon her intently.

"Is there something you wish to ask me?" Her voice rose between them even though she hadn't caught him looking. He wondered if she could feel it, the same way he could feel the trees watching _them_.

"Yesterday in the wood? I was alone, unarmed, surprised. You had every advantage. Why did you hesitate to kill me?"

Since he'd met her, Aven had seemed nothing less than sure about everything. Every move she made was one of purpose and clarity. But now, a flicker of doubt (whether in herself or fate itself, he couldn't tell) crossed her face.

"I'm not sure really." Her gaze lingered on the forest floor for just a handful of seconds before her cool, unaffected manner returned. "But I trust that there's a reason. My mother didn't even blink when I brought a human among us yesterday, that's enough for me."

"Not to be rude, because your people have been very kind to me. But all I hear about is how different I am from you. What exactly is the difference between your people and mine?" He asked, brushing the bread crumbs from his fingers as she handed him a cluster of berries he had never seen before. But they were plump, colored an attractive shade of dark red and, after his previous encounters with the Dryads' choice of food last night, he was eager to try more.

"Your people came from the sea, from the animals. Mine are descended from the trees."

Nearly choking at this, Merlin began coughing violently. She reached out a hand, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he tried to steady his breathing again.

"How is that even possible?" He wheezed between coughs. Aven only laughed, continuing to massage his back.

"I always forget how narrow minded you humans can be. The trees are as alive as you and me. Just because you can't understand their existence, doesn't make it any less real."

"Is that what I feel?" He asked, hacking up the last bits of lung, "That pulsing? I felt it from the moment I entered the wood."

"Yes." She nodded, her fingers resting in her lap once more. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin realized he was sorry to feel her touch go. "All trees have a life-force within them, it is what allows them to grow and change with the seasons. But the trees here are different. They are our ancestors and so their pulse is far stronger. That is why you are only able to feel it here."

"But why can I feel it at all?" He shook his head, thoroughly confused as he shoved more berries into his mouth. He was too curious about this tree business to bring it up yet, but these berries were the best damn thing he had ever tried. Had he been forced to survive on those alone for the rest of his existence, he would have lived a very happy life.

"Like them, and my people, you are a creature of magic. But you're connection to the world around you runs unusually deep. Most human sorcerers can only tap into the energies of our forest after months of training. For one so young as yourself to do it immediately is almost unheard of."

Looking up, Merlin surveyed the trees around them. He looked through the branches and studied the patterns of the leaves against the sky, the twisting trunks as they rose up, stretching towards the light. He had never taken the time to look at trees before- really_ look _at them- and saw now how beautiful they truly were. Letting go of the thoughts in his mind, he concentrated on the faint pulse of life around him until it was rushing through his ears with all the energy of the strongest river current.

"I don't want to leave this place." He murmured, neck still craned back. "I've never felt so at peace and alive all at once."

"The forest enjoys your presence as well." She observed with a small smile, "But it is not your fate to stay. I think you know that."

"I wish I didn't." He grumbled, not in the mood for another lecture on fate or destiny or what was "meant to be". He got enough of that from the unbearable dragon beneath Uther's castle. If there was anyone in Camelot Merlin did _not_ miss, it was him. Finishing the last of the berries in her palm, Aven rose from their place on the ground, not even bothering to brush away the dirt that had gathered on her clothes.

"We must be getting back. If what you say about your King and his plans is right, there is much to be done."

Nodding, he rose (notably with far less grace, nearly stumbling over the side of the cliff they had been seated on after getting up too quickly), brushed the leaves and twigs of the forest floor from his clothes and followed Aven back to the village.

* * *

The farmer whose fields lay alongside the forest's edge was all too happy to give Arthur and his men beds and food for the night. Though the young Prince had been ready to venture into the trees that very evening, his men were tired and darkness was creeping upon the land. If they kept on it would be useless, but he ordered his men to be ready for the march come daybreak. Nodding wearily, they unpacked their saddles, excited to see what the farmer's wife would be serving for dinner.

Finishing his meal quickly, barely even tasting the rich carrot and beef stew that had been so painstakingly prepared for his liking, Arthur stepped outside. The forest lay just a mile from the farmer's small house, its dark depths looking even more formidable as night fell. Leaning against one of the porch support beams, Arthur found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the trees.

'_That's where it happened.' _He thought to himself. _'That's where I sent them.'_

Staring at the edge of the wood, he pictured Merlin steeling himself to venture in barely armed and useless with the only weapons he _did_ have. He put in knights, clad in their gallant armor, the horses they would have had to tie by the side of the road, mid-afternoon sunshine. He wondered if his manservant had been scared. Had he seen anything coming?…Was he still alive?

It wasn't a question Arthur had allowed himself to lend much thought to and this occasion wasn't much different. Merlin had to be alive. He just…had to. Sighing deeply, Arthur ran a hand back through his hair, then over his face before turning for the door. If he was going to rescue the helpless, little whelp he would need sleep.

* * *

"The patrol sighted soldiers just beyond the forest at dusk. They'll likely march at dawn, entering just around the bend in the road there, so we should station sentries in the trees here and here." Aven explained her plan, fingers pointing and sliding across a map of forest. "When the King's men are far enough from the main road, our guard will signal and after we hear the sentries attacking, we can surround them on all sides and round them up." Over her shoulder, Estaea nodded slowly, her expression neither against nor impressed with the proposal.

From his seat on the other side of the table, Merlin sat watching them both in silence, finishing his dinner. Most of the meal had consisted of second, third and now fourth helpings of the same berries Aven had given him at breakfast. Something about the way the cool juice burst into his mouth never grew boring. Each taste was as satisfying good as the first.

"Have I forgotten something?" Aven asked, looking somewhat worried as she glanced down at the map again, scouring for any signs of error on her part. Seeing the way her lips tensed, her eyes came together in anxious concentration, he realized he had seen that look before. It was the same look Arthur got on his face when he was in danger off disappointing his father. It was then that he began to appreciate, no matter how unearthly and untouchable she seemed, Aven was no less vulnerable than any human on the inside.

"No, my dear…" The High Priestess trailed off, her gaze settling on the map as she folded her arms. "I just know that there must be at least a dozen courses of action ready to us. Do none of them allow for a peaceful solution? One that would avoid conflict altogether?"

Only silence followed as Aven's shoulders sank, her teeth chewing at her bottom lip in thought. Nearly unable to contain his laughter, Merlin could see in her face that she hadn't even bothered looking for a nonviolent solution. After all the grievances her people and her forest had suffered at the hands of mortals, she hadn't really _wanted_ to. And then, as he popped another berry in his mouth, an idea struck through the boy like a jolt of electricity.

"Wait a moment…" Grabbing the map, he turned it towards himself, sizing up the layout of the forest. Both women looked to him curiously, surprise brightening Estaea's and Aven's eyes alike.

"What do you see young sorcerer?" The High Priestess asked, taking a seat at the table and watching him intently. Curious as well, her daughter followed.

"The only reason Uther wanted to burn the forest was to make way for more farmland. I'm his son's personal servant, I heard Arthur talking about it…something about staying competitive amongst the other Kings, to ensure Camelot's sovereignty over its own lands."

"…And?" Aven's left eyebrow lifted, not seeing much of a connection.

"And," Merlin replied with a smile, tossing her one of the heaven-sent berries he'd been snacking on for the past hour, "These little devils would be worth far more than _wheat_. All we have to do is convince the King that it would better serve his interests to keep the forest standing so he can collect and sell these."

"We _eat_ these, they grow on _our _land!" Aven argued back, repulsed by the idea of ceceding yet another piece of her culture for human benefit.

"We may not _have_ any land if we do not negotiate." Estaea voiced gravely, touching her daughter's arm softly in hopes of calming her. Merlin nodded in agreement.

"She's right. Besides, you wouldn't have to give them all away, just a few baskets every month or so. If Uther is smart, he'll play to the rarity of these berries when setting their price on the market- indeed, I've never heard, seen nor tasted of them before in my life. I'm almost certain they must be exclusive to this forest."

"Even if we _did _come to some sort of agreement," Aven sighed, "Who is to say your people would ever pay such high prices for simple berries."

"Oh, these are not just simple berries." Merlin smirked, "These are gold. I'd part with whatever money necessary to have these. The Kings of Britain themselves will beckon far and wide for such fare when they begin to hear talk of them. And once they do, trust me, this forest will _never_ come to harm."

The High Priestess exchanged looks with her daughter for a moment and it seemed to Merlin that they might have actually read one another's minds. Either way, the matter was settled without any further argument. Estaea turned to him with a gentle smile.

"If you feel confident that your King can be won over, we gladly accept this alternative to warfare. But there is only one stipulation."

Merlin felt his face crumple. After the sorts of things he'd faced since arriving in Camelot, this was not likely to be walking through a sunlit field or cuddling bunny rabbits. Swallowing any fear, the boy nodded, ready to do whatever needed as always.

"_You_ must help us to convince them."

* * *

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	4. A Treaty and an Alliance

*sidhe- pronounced 'shee'- old gaelic for the fairy people, from which the Druids were believed to be descended

Disclaimer: Again, I do not own nor claim to own anything associated with the 'Pocahontas' franchise. All rights reserved to Lake Buena Vista Distribution.

**Chapter Four: A Treaty and an Alliance **

_In this world full of fear, full of rage and lies  
__I can see the truth so clear in your eyes  
__If I never knew you I'd be safe but half as real  
__All they'd leave us were these whispers in the night  
__And still my heart is saying we were right  
_'If I never Knew You' - Pocahontas OST

"You don't like my plan, do you?"

Lifting her chin from her knees, folded neatly against her chest, Aven tore her gaze away from the heat of the fire and into Merlin's cool, blue eyes. He didn't seem offened, just a little sad, as though he only wished he could do more. Unsure how to react, she offered a shrug before turning back to the flames.

"It does not matter what I think." She grumbled, her unaffected words a poor attempt to try and brush the matter away. The boy beside her only chuckled softly.

"I know you were looking forward to hurting a few of us…you can hit _me_ if you like." He offered, spreading his arms out and turning to her, as though fashioning himself into a target. Reluctantly, Aven gave up a soft laugh, shaking her head as she turned away from him again to stoke the fire. Beside her, Merlin wondered if his rapidly beating heart could be felt in the air by her kind. Not that he could help it. Making her laugh had sent him soaring.

"I might, if it weren't your last night among us."

He'd been so focused on ensuring success for the Dryads, on saying the right things to the King (or more likely Arthur, as his father was too afraid to ever leave his castle walls) to convince him that warfare could be avoided, Merlin had not stopped to think what lay after the fact. Surely, he would be carried away by the King's men, swept up in a parade of war stallions and clanking armor, never to set eyes on Aven again. The sudden realization jerked at the peace he'd found amongst her people, threatening its foundations.

"It's alright," She offered, getting up from their place by the great fire that continuously burned at the center of the village. "We were fine before you, I'm sure we'll be just as well after."

With a soft smile that really could have passed for genuine, she ran a hand through his thick, dark hair as he looked up at her from the ground. He wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. Nothing could change the fact that he was leaving and to be honest, he hadn't even known she cared either way. As she made her quiet way back to the hut, he hesitated for a moment, knowing he was going to screw this up somehow (he'd never been very good with women). But as she disappeared behind the thick bearskin that served as a door, he realized making a fool of himself had to be better than not going after her at all.

"Aven!" He called, jogging to her house and bursting in with his usual lack of grace. "Aven, you have to understand"-

"You think I don't understand?" She laughed darkly from behind the changing screen and his shoulders sunk at the cynical tone of her voice. "The part that hurts the most is how much I _do_ understand."

"But…_I don't_." He grappled around for the right words, entirely lost as to how he was supposed to express the jumbled mass of emotions floating around between his ears. "I mean, there are men coming tomorrow. Lots of them, weapons ready and minds bent towards destroying you and your home. All we can do is pray that they will listen and I…I'm _terrified_. I'm really not sure I can do this and the thought of what might happen if I don't…and you're angry with me because I'm _leaving_?"

"I'm not angry with _you_." She grumbled, strutting past him on her way to the chest that held her clothes so she could fold and put away the tunic and breeches she had worn that day. Around her figure now fell a loose night shift the color of eggshells, bringing out the amber in her hair, the green in her eyes. For a glimmer of a moment, he was sure she could have passed for a birch tree in autumn. "I'm just not thrilled about the fact that in exchange for threatening our life, your King gets both the food of our forest as well as you."

The words surprised him into silence at first he studied her, wondering if he'd even heard her right. Finally, he began to feel capable of words again.

"And…of what value am I to this realm?" Even as he spoke, it was a struggle to keep his voice even. But for all his curiosity and even hope, he managed it in the end. Turning from the chest, she rose and regarded him for a moment before sighing and taking a seat atop the wooden trunk.

"I've never met a human who appreciates our land so much. Who not only understands, but _wants_ to understand. I wish you could see the wonder in your eyes when I explain the slightest things, things everyone I know takes for granted, even the trees. To see that look on your face, to feel the passion for everything I love emanating from your skin…that is worth a thousand wars."

Taking a seat beside her, he held her hands in his as he folded his legs and turned to face her.

"All of that should assure you that I don't _want _to leave. Maybe I can work something out with Arthur; maybe I can convince him to let me stay."

She only shook her head, but (though she tried) seemed unable to tear her hands away from his own.

"_How_ can you? Your people are so superstitious and afraid, they must think we have you held captive under some spell. They'll never believe you want to stay of your own free will."

"But you _do _have me captive." Merlin smiled his soft, boyish smile and, as she understood his meaning, Aven was helpless to stave off a smirk of her own.

"Is that so?" She lifted an eyebrow, pretending to be unconvinced.

"You've had me captive since the moment I met you." He murmured, knuckles coming up to brush her cheek. Neither of them were conscious of leaning forward until Aven's eyes flickered down to his mouth and realized that he was close enough to…

Warmth flooded through her and she felt as though it were spring and everything in the forest was opening up, waking and alive again, blossoming in her. As their mouths molded together, exploring and feeling each other out, Merlin had never felt so deeply in tune with the energy of the woods, of the starry sky that lay above them like scattered diamonds, of the fire in the middle of the village, of the wet mists that blanketed the grass and leaves. It was like, when he touched her, they sank into the entire world around them, the magic that flowed through them giving off sparks every time it brushed together.

"I don't want you to leave." She pleaded between kisses and swollen lips, all resolve to deny the truth having crumbled away.

"I'll come back." He breathed, "I swear it."

Not having the heart to reply with her doubts, she only nodded, trying to believe that she could trust him as their lips met again.

* * *

The morning was cold and as they entered the forest, Arthur's hands begining to feel stiff and numb around the hilt of his sword. But he barely even noticed, every ounce of concentration fixed to the trees around them. Before long he spotted the tracks of his soldiers, only a few days old and easily distinguishable from Merlin's, owing to his lack of armor. Trying to ignore the pang of guilt that gripped his stomach, he led the knights on in silence.

Ordering his men to fan out along the line of tracks so that a surprise attack would be less likely, Arthur stayed dutifully along the trail of his manservant. It was slow going, clad in heavy chain mail and carrying his sword, but his resolve never wavered. The sharpness of his senses, however, were another story. Every step deeper into the forest seemed to confuse him. He would hear sounds and turn to see nothing, notice a shadow leaping between the branches and look to see only sunshine pouring through the leaves. His men insisted it was only fatigue, tricks of his mind.

But Arthur had trouble believing them. His mind didn't _play_ tricks, not in the woods anyway. He was a born hunter and not even the King himself could cause him to doubt it. Perhaps his senses were just heightened from adrenaline, perhaps the men weren't quick enough to catch what he could, perhaps-

Suddenly, a strange sort of outline began to take shape along the crest of a nearby ridge. Narrowing his eyes, Arthur was sure at first that it was a solid line of trees. But that couldn't be right, how would their roots dig in beside each other, how would they get enough sunlight or water or….

"_Merlin_?" Just as the shapes came into focus as real people, he noticed one among them who had stood out from the beginning. Mostly because, well, he didn't look like a tree at all. Though, dressed in fine, clean clothes and standing up straight (almost proudly), he had been difficult to recognize at first. Arthur's sword fell to his side as he stared in confusion. His manservant certainly didn't _look_ as though he needed saving. The little brute had him worried for nothing. "What on God's green earth are you doing?"

"The right thing." Merlin called back, his voice clear and unmistakable as it carried through the frigid morning air. "As I'm sure you will too, sire."

Looking around, Arthur sized up his manservant's companions with a warrior's mind. Tall, not much muscle, but fierce. Though he could see bows and quivers peeking out from behind many of their shoulders, none were poised to shoot and very few were carrying swords. Clearly, their formation in the middle of the wood indicated that they had known his men were coming…had they no intention of defending themselves?

"Tell your friends there that we cannot fight unarmed men, but that we will take this forest by any means necessary." He called back, already beginning to feel the dread of disappointing Uther churning in the depths of his stomach. His father would kill him if he came back with nothing to show for their efforts but Merlin.

"They are not men." The young boy assured him, as Arthur watched him from the bottom of the sloping hill, "And this is not your forest to take."

Now he was just testing Arthur's patience. Who did he think he was talking to? Had a few days spent in the woods rotted his mind?

"I assure you it _is_." He bit back, lips curling angrily, "The king owns whatever property falls within his realm and he shall do with it as he sees fit."

"But this is not his realm." A tall, rather intimidating woman with long golden hair stepped forward. Her hazel eyes bored into the Prince, holding him in place from over fifty yards away. It was almost as though she could see beyond his eyes and into his mind. As though he were raw and bare before her, unable to hide. And yet, though she frightened him, there was something mesmerizing about her presence as well. When she spoke, something feral within him seemed to awaken. "We do not wish to fight you. Come and rest in our village. So long as you do not harm our trees, no harm will come to you either."

As she turned her back, the rest of her people began to follow her down over the other side of the hill. Looking to his men, who were more frightened than he had ever seen them, Arthur sheathed his sword and began to follow as well. In later years, when he thought back on the moment, he couldn't be sure why or what exactly had compelled him. He just knew that his entire being had longed to go with them and he had been helpless to resist.

In the village, the people (if they could be called that) stared at him and his troops. Some looked angry, a few even scared, but most were just in awe. He could tell that they didn't trust him or his men and to be honest, he couldn't really blame them. However, it wasn't the expressions they were wearing that confused him. Arthur had little experience dealing with Druids but he knew they typically kept themselves clean, their robes long, dark and thick. They were known for their trademark tattoos, pale skin and dark hair- clues to their ancient past as descendents of the sidhe*.

But these people had no tattoos, their olive skin covered in dirt, hair colored red and yellow like the trees in autumn, bodies decorated with leaves, branches and wildflowers. Their clothes were light and pale, almost as though woven from the essence of ghosts. Their eyes as well, shone brightly all around him in contrast to the pitch blacks and muddy browns of the Druid people. But if these were not pagans…then what were they?

Following the woman who had spoken before into a hut that was larger than the others (though not by much), Arthur bid his men to stay outside and keep watch. They were not to so much as speak to these people, let alone fight them. Impressing upon them that he expected to return to as peaceful a scene as he had left behind him, the Prince left them to their duties.

Inside, the air was warm and thick with the smell of smoke from the fire that burned close to its entrance. Though the heat was a welcomed change from the unforgiving morning chill, it was also a bit stifling under all his armor. For a second, Arthur's eyes went immediately to Merlin, his first instinct to order that the servant help him out of his metal plates and chain mail. However, the boy was standing to the left of the woman who had bid him follow her here and she seemed almost protective of him. To the woman's right stood a girl, much like herself in feature and color, but far younger and (if he knew anything about women) (which he was proud to say he rather did) probably a bit feistier to boot.

"I am Estaea. Come, join us." The elder told him, her long, graceful hand urging him to take a seat across the table from where she stood. Not entirely thrilled about being bossed around by a woman (and certainly not accustomed to it), Arthur found himself unable to resist her hospitality. As he sat, so too did they. "I understand you are the son of a King."

"You mean _your_ King?" Arthur cocked an eyebrow. Who the hell did this woman think she was? As he crossed his arms defensively, she offered only an amused smile in return.

"We do not recognize kings and queens here. But if you seek the leader of my people, you have found her. I am Estaea, High Priestess of our tribe."

"High Priestess?" He chuckled, unable to believe such ridiculousness. Who had ever heard of a female priest? "Come now, where is your husband? Should I not be speaking to the head of this house hold?"

"I am married to no one but the Earth, as the traditions of the Priestess command."

Arthur could only grimace in return. These people had chosen a nun as their fearless leader? This had to be a joke. Or perhaps, he had not even woken from sleep yet and this was all just a fantastical dream.

"This is no dream." The girl to Estaea's right told him, her green eyes digging into him with much less charm than her Lady's. Her beauty seemed diminished by her apparent ability to delve into his mind, extracting whatever thoughts she found there. These people may not have been Druids, but he was beginning to suspect they too practiced witchcraft and possibly even plotted against his father. How else had they charmed Merlin over to their side?

"Listen, I'm not sure what you're playing at, but I think it's time you returned my servant to me."

"I want to stay." The boy insisted, speaking up for the first time. Now that the trees and hills of the forest no longer separated them, Arthur could see it, could hear it in his voice. Something about Merlin had changed. The same eerie quality that clung to these people hovered around him as well.

"_Here?_" Arthur nearly choked, eyes growing wide. "In the forest? Are you mad? You have quarters in the King's _castle_!"

"And I have enjoyed my time there, but I belong here."

The young Prince could scarcely believe what he was hearing and, in his desperation, all of his father's warnings against magic came flooding back to him.

"You belong amongst your own kind!" Standing, Arthur laid his palms on the table, leaning forward into Estaea's unwavering face. "Whatever spell or enchantment of witchcraft you have placed upon him, I order you now: take it off, or so help me God"-

"He is under no spell." The High Priestess assured him. "Check our homes, our shelves and baskets. You will find no books of any kind here, let alone those needed for enchantment."

"Nonsense! The Merlin I know is devoted to me _and _my crown. He may be a sodding idiot, but he is nothing if not loyal."

"Why should he want to go back with you when you offer nothing but servitude and insults? At least here he is appreciated." The young girl snapped, her eyes burning with anger. Arthur nearly laughed, knowing the look well. It was the same look Morgana wore when arguing with Uther over his own well-being. A look filled equally with defensive fury and passion for another. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed this girl had taken a rather personal interest in Merlin. However, before he could ask, Estaea raised her hands, signaling them both to end their quarreling.

"We invited you here so as to _avoid _conflict." She reminded them, the tone of her voice warning of the consequences that would follow should they forget again. Though there was little Arthur hated more than being patronized, he conceded a rough nod and took his seat once more. "Now, Merlin if you please?"

The boy stood and went to a nearby cabinet, pulling from the shelves a small plate of…were those berries?

"Er, I'm not hungry." Arthur lied as his manservant pushed the plate in front of him.

"Just try one." Merlin insisted, unable to resist grabbing a handful for himself before sitting back down. "I'm telling you Arthur, this is the best fruit you'll ever try."

Staring at the plate for a moment, the Crown Prince tried not to grimace. Those things didn't look normal. They were the biggest berries he'd ever seen, dyed an unnaturally attractive shade of red. How could he be sure these weren't full of whatever potion had clearly been fed to Merlin. But as the rest of the table stared at him in expectation, he realized he didn't have much of a choice. Reminding himself that he had faced far scarier and fearsome things in his time than a plate full of berries, Arthur recited a silent prayer for his soul and dove in.

* * *

"Good God! You found these in _Atrum Forest_?" Uther exclaimed, shocked that no one had ever told him of the berries before.

"Indeed," Arthur nodded proudly, giving Merlin a secretive glance as his father continued to stuff his face. "That was all we found."

"No Druids?" The King asked absently, studying the berries closely, trying to make sense of them. He was sure he'd never tried anything so delicious in his life. Just wait until the other Kings heard about these. Camelot would be more prosperous than ever.

"I can honestly report having met no Druids." He assured his father.

"It's odd though, the injuries to our knights and your servant having gone missing. You're absolutely sure there is no threat in the woods?"

"After careful investigation, the other knights and I have come to believe it was simply a boundary patrol of King Orrin's having wandered too far west. The trees can begin to look the same after a while, who knows what one might see after hours of wandering around?" This time, Arthur's smug smile fell to the King's left, landing on a rather amused Morgana.

She had been regaled with the true tale in hushed tones as Arthur changed in the armory just an hour before his audience with the King. Hearing that there had been no bloodshed, a new alternative to burning down the forest and best of all, the recovery of her favorite manservant, she had been ecstatic. Never in her life had she been more proud of the man she loved, or more eager to prove it to him. As he tossed the occasional glance her way, even in the courtroom, he could already tell that she was going to make getting ready for the feast that evening very difficult.

"Mmm," Uther nodded, still distracted by the berries. "Excellent, excellent. We shall have to invite him to court to make amends, in case he should think we were trying to execute a secret attack. In the mean time, I want a very specific strategy drawn up on the harvesting of these _incredible_ berries."

"Yes father." Arthur nodded, turning to leave. He still had to talk with Merlin about how they would be gathering the berries without drawing attention to the Dryads, but there would be plenty of time for that later. He needed a hot bath and at least an hour's rest before the feast, preferably with comp-

"Oh, and Arthur?" For the first time since tasting his new favorite delicacy, the King looked up, meeting his son's eyes head on.

"Yes, father?"

"I'm very impressed with the work that you've done." Uther smiled.

"Thank you, father." He barely got the words out before turning for the door once more, a toothy grin stretching across his face.

* * *

Aww lol Stay tuned for the epilogue that'll be up in about 24-36 hours (depending on your time zone lol) Please try and leave some feedback, esp if this is on your favorites/alerts list (because I'd be inclined to believe you have feelings about the story one way or another if you want to keep up with it). Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!! I love you all :)


	5. Into the Sunset

I think this is, by far, my favorite chapter. Warm fuzzies!! lol

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own anything associated with the 'Anastasia' franchise. All rights reserved to Twentieth Century Fox...and I suppose the Romanov family as well lol

**Epilogue: Off Into the Sunset**

_No one told me I was going to find you  
__Now here we stand, and the storm is through  
__In the end I want to be standing at the beginning with you  
_'At the Beginning' from the Anastasia OST

From that time on, word of the Ora berry spread like a wildfire across dry grass. From the Western coasts to the Channel Islands, demand only increased with each year and the Kings of Britain paid good money to taste their divine juice. No one was sure how Camelot got its store or where they were grown, only that Prince Arthur had discovered them. Even more of a mystery was how they came into the castle at all, for Uther had never planted any in or around the city.

The people came up with many fantastical stories about how the Ora found their way in each season. Some said a fairy woman brought the berries to Uther's own chambers. Others whispered that the berries were magical in and of themselves, that they simply appeared in the castle cellars when stores began to run low. One rumor even proposed that a servant of the courts had been bewitched in the mysterious woods just beyond the kingdom boundaries and, with the coming of each full moon, made his way there to dance with the trees and sleep in their branches.

Most rolled their eyes at the tale (which had obviously been invented to scare small children away from the wood, lest they get lost beyond the boundaries of the realm, where even the Knights of Camelot dared not venture). But still, the story circulated. With each telling, the details became greater in their fantastic outrageousness.

In the pubs they swore this servant had fallen under the enchantment of the trees themselves, that he couldn't stop himself from returning to pick the Ora berries. Why else would the King give him twelve nights of freedom every year, unless he was getting something of great worth in return?

At night mothers tucked their children in with stories of how he had even fallen in _love_ with one of the trees and, in all her love for him, she had come to life as a beautiful woman. When he went back, they danced around fires and laughed until the sun came up and ate nothing but rich, juicy Ora berries.

Around the lower city, children at play giggled about the stories their parents told and added their own little touches, making the tree-woman a goddess and the boy her high priest, his love for her the only religion he knew. Making sure to keep their voices low so as not to get into trouble, they whispered to each other about the boy being a great sorcerer (the best in all the land) who learned everything he knew from his mistress. She taught him great magic but, most importantly, that it was only to be used for good.

Each tale was told a little differently, each with its own unique twists and turns. Some were scoffed at and some were revered by the villagers who delighted in them. But all ended with a smile and a promise that together, the servant boy and his woman of the enchanted wood lived happily ever after.

* * *

*Just a quick note about the goddess/high priest bit: That's based on the legend of the Rex Nemorensis, the official title of Diana's (Roman Goddess of the hunt) (the myth of which I'm borderline obsessed with lol) High Priest. Tradition held that servants of kings would come and fight for the honor of being her Priest at the border of the woods she resided in. After defeating the previous Rex and earning the title for himself, the Priest then took up the duty of defending Diana and her woods. I thought it fit nicely ;) and, like I said, I'm obssesed with the myth of Diana lol.

Well, that's all. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please try and take a moment to let me know what you liked (or disliked) about the story, especially if you have it on your favorites/alerts list. Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story all the way to the end! Much love.


	6. REALLY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Really Important Author's Note:**

Hey everybody! This is really important to me, so please take the time to read,

Last night I saw Avatar for the first time and, needless to say if you've read this story, I was deeply moved. It was honestly the best made movie I've ever seen in my life and I want to extend a congratulations to James Cameron for all of his recognition and box office success, it is all 100% deserved.

However, as I was sitting in the theatre I was at once horrified and elated to find that the movie almost perfectly parallels the basic story line and elements of this story, to the point where anyone could make the argument that, had this been written after I'd seen the movie it would have obviously been a blatant attempt to rip off the film. I swear on my honor as an author that I *did* only just see the movie last night and that I wrote this way before I knew anything about the film (beyond the fact that there were blue people lol).

'Through the Trees' is very close to my heart because in many ways it is a mouthpiece for my own conservationist and naturalist beliefs. The idea of the 'energy' flowing through the trees, I swear that was all me. Obviously James Cameron can feel the same thing I feel when I'm around trees, that they're alive and pulsing with the same energy that humans and animals are (which I adore him for, I really wish more people would take the time to appreciate nature lol). Everything in this story (aside from the Merlin universe, obviously lol) is a direct result of things I have felt and observed and imagined, with the exception of the Dryad legend (but even most of that I made up before I even read about the details on what a Dryad is. Thankfully it all just happened to match up).

Anyways, I just wanted to put up the disclaimer that I DID NOT see the movie before writing this story and that I wasn't in any way shape or form trying to rip off the latest box office craze. Please, if you haven't seen the movie already, go do so. It is *well worth* the fifteen dollars. And next time you see a beautiful tree, take the time to appreciate it


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